


Pockets Full Of Stones

by Synnerxx



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:31:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synnerxx/pseuds/Synnerxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick cleans up Pete's messes until he can't anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pockets Full Of Stones

**Author's Note:**

> I feel, perhaps, this could have been longer, but I didn't want to stretch it out into cliches and make it a parody of real issues. So. There may be more of this 'verse, but for now, this can stand on its own.

A crash from downstairs jerks Patrick into consciousness. He gropes around on the nightstand for his glasses, one hand reaching out to Pete's side of the bed. When all he gets is empty sheets, he grunts in irritation. He gets out of bed and heads downstairs, wondering what Pete's broken now. 

Pete is standing in the kitchen, several glasses shattered at his feet. Patrick stops at the doorway, keeping his bare feet safely on the living room carpet. 

"Pete, you okay?" Patrick asks, softly.

Pete steps over the glass and Patrick winces when he sees the blood under Pete's feet as he walks towards him. He reaches out to Pete, intending to take his hand and lead him to a chair.

"Sit down before you get even more glass in your feet." Patrick says.

Pete glares at him, eyes bloodshot and ringed with dark circles. "Shut up."

Patrick ignores him. "Pete, come on. Let me look at your feet."

"Didn't you hear me? I said shut up!" Pete's voice rises. 

"I heard you. Don't scream at me. You need to calm down and let me bandage your feet." Patrick says calmly, reigning in his own temper. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Pete screams, backhanding Patrick so hard, he knocks his glasses off and sends him stumbling back a few steps.

Pete stares at him, panting. Patrick touches a hand to his throbbing cheek and slowly looks up at Pete. 

"You hit me." Patrick says, voice flat.

Pete continues staring at him. He doesn't say anything. 

It's been so long since their fights have actually escalated into physical violence that Patrick is shaken. This isn't an ordinary fight. This is Pete's rage taking over him, making him lash out. 

Patrick picks up his glasses. He puts them on. He focuses on his breathing for a moment, calming himself down. He turns to look at Pete again. 

"Are you going to hit me again?" He asks.

Pete shakes his head, a jerky motion. Patrick can tell that he's not quite back to normal. He's been off his meds for longer than Patrick realized, sleeping even less than Patrick thought. He picks a path through the glass on the floor and pushes Pete down into a chair. He manages to avoid the glass and wet a dish towel, find the first aid kit they kept in the junk drawer, plus a pair of tweezers, and get back to Pete without cutting his own feet.

He kneels in front of Pete, wiping the blood off with the towel and then picking the shards out of his feet. Pete is silent above him, hands shaking as they curl into fists against his thighs. Patrick bandages the worst of the cuts and cleans up the mess of band aid packages and the towel. He leaves it on the table and walks out to the bathroom. 

He gets Pete's sleeping pills and walks back into the kitchen. He gets a water bottle out of the fridge and hands both to Pete, who takes it mechanically and swallows the pill without a word. 

"Go to bed. I'll clean up this mess." Patrick sighs, picking up the trash from the table and throwing it away, avoiding the shards once more. 

Pete doesn't say anything as he stands and walks out of the kitchen. When he's out of sight, Patrick sits down heavily in the chair that Pete vacated. He breathes hard through his nose and clenches his fists. His cheek throbs to the rhythm of his heart beat, hot and aching. The encounter had left him tense and angry and somewhat shaken. This isn't the Pete he knows. 

He sighs and shoves himself up from the table, moving around the glass to get the broom and clean it up. He dumps it out into the trash and then uses the towel to wipe up any tiny shards he might have missed. He tosses the towel in the sink and washes his hands. 

He makes his way back upstairs and stands in the doorway of their bedroom. Pete lays on his side of the bed, breathing deep and steady and Patrick knows that he's really asleep and will stay that way until morning. Patrick turns and walks down the hall into the guest room and lays down, suddenly exhausted. He falls asleep soon after his head hits the pillow.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Patrick wakes up to another body curling around him. Patrick turns over to find Pete staring at him with wide eyes. Pete's fingers trace over the bruise and Patrick winces before he can stop himself. Pete makes a broken noise and buries his face in Patrick's neck. Patrick strokes his hands down over Pete's back, humming quietly to calm him down.

Pete shudders against him and pulls back, fingers ghosting over the bruise once more. 

"I hit you." He whispers, voice hoarse.

Patrick watches him steadily. He doesn't say anything.

"Patrick, I'm so sorry. I just hadn't slept in forever and that's no excuse, but please, Patrick." Pete babbles desperately, hands tangling in Patrick's shirt. 

"Shhh, Pete. It happened, let's move on." Patrick whispers, tugging Pete's hands free of his shirt. 

Pete pushes against Patrick, kissing him fiercely for a moment before pulling away abruptly. "I'm sorry."

Patrick murmurs something like agreement and starts to get out of bed. 

"Are you mad at me?" Pete asks, voice small. 

Patrick turns to look at him. He looks tiny and miserable curled up in the bed, looking up at Patrick with dark eyes. "No, Pete. I'm not mad. Not at you."

Pete nods, but he doesn't look convinced. "You didn't come to bed last night."

"No, I didn't." Patrick agrees.

"Can we talk about this, please, Patrick?" Pete asks, picking the comforter. 

"I'd rather not." Patrick says sharply. 

Pete flinches. "Okay."

Patrick heads into the bathroom and does his business before coming back to lean against the doorway. "I'm not mad, okay?"

Pete looks up at him and nods. "Alright."

"Come on, I'll make some coffee." Patrick walks out of the room as Pete scrambles to get out of the bed. 

Pete follows along behind him and drops down into a kitchen chair, hands plucking the sleeves of his hoodie. Patrick moves around the kitchen, getting the pot of coffee ready and turning it on. 

"You want anything for breakfast?" Patrick asks, not turning around.

"No." Pete says quietly. 

Patrick nods and leans against the counter, not coming to sit next to Pete as he usually does. He waits until the coffee pot is full and then takes out the creamer and sugar for Pete and pours them both mugs. 

He sits Pete's down in front of him and moves back against the counter, staring out of the window over the kitchen sink. He drinks his coffee in silence and listens to Pete shifting restlessly behind him. 

"Patrick, I know you said you didn't want to talk about this, but I really think we should." Pete says, uncertainly. He's not usually one for pushing topics of conversation that have to do with feelings and hurtful things. 

"I already told you I don't want to talk about it and I'm not going to talk about it." Patrick says calmly, not even looking at Pete. 

"Patrick, please don't shut me out like this." Pete puts his coffee mug down on the table and gets up, wrapping his arms around Patrick's waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder. He counts it as a win when Patrick doesn't shrug him off.

"I'm not shutting you out, but I don't want to talk about what happened." Patrick says, sounding annoyed. 

"And I'm saying I really think we should. It's clearly bothering you." Pete turns Patrick around to face him, eyes lingering on the red and purple bruise on Patrick's cheek.

"Of course it's bothering me! You fucking hit me!" Patrick shoves Pete off of him and glares. 

"And I'm sorry I did that, but you know I wasn't exactly in my right mind." Pete explains.

"This is about more than just that, though. You can't just go off your meds without telling someone, Pete. Hell, you shouldn't go off of them period! And you need to start telling me when you haven't been sleeping for the better part of a week." Patrick snaps. 

"I know! I know, okay? I should tell you all of these things, but it's hard. I dump so much of my problems on you and make you fix them that I just didn't want to do that to you anymore." Pete looks down at his feet, fingers twisting around themselves. 

"That's what I'm here for! For you to come to me when things are becoming an issue and for me to help you. That's what boyfriends do, Pete. That's what happens in a normal, healthy relationship." Patrick reaches out and grabs Pete's hands. 

"You're telling me this like I have healthy relationships." Pete grumbles, pulling his hands away.

"This is a healthy relationship." Patrick points out.

"How would you even know? You're in the relationship. You're too close to call it. Besides, I don't think me hitting you is a great example of healthy." Pete sits back down at the table, picking up his coffee. 

"Look, it was a one time thing and it's not going to happen again, is it?" Patrick asks, sitting down next to Pete and shifting to look at him.

"No, it's not." Pete reaches up and curls his hand around Patrick's bruised cheek. 

Patrick leans into the touch and smiles softly at Pete.

"I'm so sorry." Pete whispers, leaning in to press his mouth to Patrick's.

"I know you are." Patrick says against his lips.

They sit like for a while, coffees going cold on the table. It's quiet and nice and comfortable, but there's something still bothering Patrick, poking into the back of his head. He ignores it and shoves it down. There's nothing to worry about. Pete will take his meds like he's supposed to and he'll start sleeping again or at least telling Patrick when he isn't. Things will get better. 

Pete startles when his cell phone rings from upstairs. He stands up and gives Patrick a rueful smile. "Duty calls." 

Patrick waves him off and gets up as well. He needs to take a shower.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Things settle between them for a while, both of them falling into a routine of work and home life. Patrick allows himself to relax, reassured that Pete isn't going to have another episode again. Then everything is turned upside down once again.

A scream pulls Patrick from his sleep. He startles awake and sits up, listening. He glances at Pete's side of the bed, unsurprised to see that Pete isn't in bed with him. He sighs and gets up, heading downstairs. A crash makes him hurry his pace, practically running downstairs. 

Pete's standing in the middle of the living room, one of Patrick's guitars in his hands as he slams it down repeatedly into the floor. 

"Pete, what the fuck?" Patrick screeches. 

Pete ignores him and continues to slam the guitar onto the floor. Patrick manages to wrestle it away from Pete. Pete stares at him for a moment as Patrick lays the guitar, cracked and splintering, on the coffee table before turning back to Pete.

Pete glares at him furiously. "Get away from me."

"Pete, calm down. We've been over this before. Come on, don't repeat this mistake." Patrick reaches out to Pete, intending to grab his arm and pull him to the couch.

Pete shoves his hands away. "Don't fucking touch me!" 

"Pete, calm down!" Patrick implores him, reaching out again.

"Stop telling me to fucking calm down! I don't want to calm down!" Pete shoves Patrick again, sending him back a few steps. 

Pete slaps him, snapping his head to the side. Patrick doesn't get time to recover before Pete tackles him to the floor, his head bouncing painfully on the carpet. 

Pete manages to slam his fist into Patrick's face once before Patrick twists and bucks underneath him, tipping him off. Patrick scrambles away, one hand pressed to his face as blood drips between his fingers.

Pete stares at him, holding his hand. He's breathing hard and trembling. Patrick almost wants to go over and comfort him, but he's held in place by the fact that Pete just hit him again. He doesn't know what to do. Neither does Pete. 

Eventually, Pete's ragged breathing smoothes out and he hesitantly crawls over on his knees towards Patrick. Patrick flinches away from him and Pete closes his eyes. 

"Let me see." Pete's voice is strained and scratchy, but it's no longer full of rage.

Patrick eyes him carefully, then slowly lowers his hand from his face. His nose is still bleeding, but sluggishly. His nose isn't broken, but there's going to be some major bruising.

Pete coaxes Patrick up and into the bathroom where he sits him down on the closed toilet seat. He wets a wash cloth and cleans the blood off of Patrick's face with gentle hands. Patrick doesn't say anything and won't look him in the eye. Pete feels sick at what he's done to Patrick. He can't fathom how he let himself get so bad that he's capable of doing this to Patrick. 

Patrick's the one to break the silence. "You need help, Pete. More than I can give you."

Pete sighs and presses his forehead to Patrick's closing his eyes. He's half-surprised when Patrick doesn't push him away. "I know."

Patrick's hands cup his cheeks and push him back a little. "Do you know it, Pete? Really?"

"I do. I swear I'll get help. I'll call my therapist and start regular sessions. Adjust my meds." Pete promises, looking at Patrick with dark eyes.

"That's good. That'll help. I think that maybe we shouldn't be together while you work this out. It's not healthy and I can't be the one to help you." Patrick lets go of Pete.

"Are you....Are you breaking up with me?" Pete asks, frowning.

Patrick considers him for a moment. "Yes. For the sake of our relationship, yes, I am breaking up with you."

"But I'm going to get better!" Pete protests, clutching at Patrick's hands.

"I know. I know you will. But right now, that isn't going to happen if we're together." Patrick explains softly.

"I love you." Pete murmurs.

"And I love you." Patrick presses a kiss to the top of Pete's head as Pete sags onto his knees.

Patrick's face hurts and he stands, pulling Pete to his feet as well. "Things will look different in the morning." 

There will be questions in the morning, phone calls to make, details to take care of, but right now, all Pete wants is one last night to sleep curled around Patrick, sharing his warmth, and comforting himself with the thought that as long as Patrick believes in him, he can get better. 

He will get better because Patrick deserves that much and that's what Pete will give him, what Pete can give him.


End file.
